


Up for Round Two

by HazelDomain



Series: Dean Wants it from Everybody 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Come Swallowing, Come as Lube, Comeplay, Edging, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gangbang, Guilt, Handcuffs, M/M, Moresomes, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Violated but enjoying it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 18:07:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6162040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelDomain/pseuds/HazelDomain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after a hustle goes wrong, Dean finds himself back in the same bar, looking for the same men. He's got an itch no one else can scratch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Up for Round Two

**Author's Note:**

> This is an addendum to "Bad Game of Pool" which I would have named better if I had realized it was going to be so fucking popular. 
> 
> The original was straight-up rape. I'm posting this as it's own story so that people who don't want to deal with that can still read this. 
> 
> This is less "rape" and more "BDSM gangbang without a safeword." I left the tag because this might trigger people. Rest assured that Dean's gonna love everything that's about to happen to him.
> 
>  
> 
> I write by listening to songs on repeat. It helps get me into a mindspace that can be easily entered and exited. The song for this story is [Trial by Fire ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FOI4pC69jr8) by ThouShaltNot.

 

 

It was Saturday, and that means Jake was at the bar. It had been a pretty solid constant in his life. Three cars, two ex-wives, four dogs, one bar. Every Saturday.

The pool table had been taken over by a group of college kids showing off for their girlfriends, and the band was loud and exceptionally shitty. But the bartender knew his poison, and he had some great memories of this bar.

All in all, it was a pretty typical Saturday evening until one of those great memories walked through the door.

Jake recognized him instantly. It had been probably five years since the kid had tried to hustle Jake and his friends, and the years had been good to him. He’d been lithe and firm then, but now he’d grown up, all strong muscle and rough stubble. Those bright green eyes were unmistakable, and Jake had come many a time from the memory of those lips wrapped around his dick. He’d probably have a hard-on now, if it weren’t so obvious that the man recognized him, too.

Green eyes met his from across the room, and the man elbowed his companion, a long-haired giant who could probably snap Jake in half without breaking a sweat. The two of them made their way across the bar, dodging a waitress, and Jake tried to remember the beginning of the Lord’s Prayer. It wasn’t gonna save his life, but it didn’t hurt to make right with the lord before you died.

And then, the man and his massive friend sat down at a table and gestured for the waitress.

Not _a_ table, Jake realized. The man had gone straight to the table he’d been _fucked_ on. As he watched, the green eyed man ran his fingers over the tabletop, and then looked up, straight into Jake’s eyes, and he was blushing and biting his lip and Jake didn’t think he’d ever been so hard in his whole life.

The man’s companion said something, and he looked away, but within five minutes, he was looking at Jake again. And then he was coming over, leaning across the bar and ordering a couple shots, and Jake knew he’d be jerking off to that image at least twice before he fell asleep tonight. The way he was sticking his ass out was basically an _invitation_ and then, when the bartender turned his back, the man slid Jake a note.

“ _Round 2?”_

Scribbled in the corner of a bar napkin.

Oh, _hell_ yes.

Jake grabbed a pen off the bar and jotted down an address. Bill’s place. His wife was out of town and his mancave was legendary.

The man stuffed the napkin back in his pocket just as the bartender returned with his shots. He turned back to the table and _lord_ did Jake watch him leave.

He pulled out his cell phone, snapping a photo of the man as he sat back down at the table. The guys weren’t going to believe their luck.    

 

 

 

 

The house was far too normal to be this scary.

Just a normal two-story in the suburbs, painted shutters, apple tree in the backyard. A couple kids went racing past on bicycles, and Dean stepped up the driveway to let them pass.

For the tenth time since the hotel room, he decided to get back in his car and go back to Sam and never think about this again. It was a resolution he’d been working on for almost the full five years since it had happened. ‘ _I’ll jerk off to it just one more time, and then I’ll never think about it again.’_

He’d been back to the bar twice in those years, but never saw anyone he recognized. Sammy thought he liked the burgers there.

And then last night, he’d gone in and scanned the bar, and there was the tall, blonde man from that night.

Somewhere down the road, a lawnmower roared to life and it occurred to Dean that he was in the wrong place. That the man at the bar had given him the wrong address. No way he was going to walk up that cement walkway, stand on the porch, ring the doorbell, and be greeted by the men who had tied his hands behind him and fucked him into the greatest orgasm of his young life.

Not possible.

No way.

He was getting hard thinking about it.

He walked up the path, rang the doorbell, and almost immediately found himself face to face with the dark haired man he remembered from that night.

“I’ll be damned,” the man said. Dean was relieved to see that the other man was almost as shocked as he was. And then he extended a hand. “Name’s Bill.”

Dean shook it.

“Dean.”

“Well, Dean, let’s get to it.”

 

Dean left his shoes and socks by the door, padding down the carpeted basement stairs in his bare feet. After all the abandoned warehouses he’d stormed, this seemed almost grotesquely domestic.

The basement was finished, with carpet and drywall and the works, and it wasn’t lost on Dean that there was a pool table in the corner. Overstuffed couches surrounded the widescreen, and there was a wet bar to one side, decorated with posters of busty young women carrying mugs of beer. The blonde man was leaning against the bar nursing a drink, and next to him was another man who Dean realized he didn’t know. The blonde saw him looking.

“This is Mack. He wasn’t there for the first party, but we figured you wouldn’t mind. Cock’s a cock, right?”

Dean flushed. The blonde man nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Strip.”

Dean almost stopped again, there. This was really going to happen, unless he backed out, now.

“Oh, don’t play shy now,” Bill said from behind him, and Dean set his jaw and pulled his shirt off. Mack let out a low whistle.

Dean’s hands hesitated on the button of his jeans, for only a second, and then he pushed them and his boxers down, and he was standing there naked and rock hard.

“Told you he loved it,” the blonde told Mack, and Dean had to look at the floor. “So, slut, whose cock do you want to suck first?”

Dean’s eyes widened but his dick jumped, and the men laughed. Bill settled back onto the couch. “C’mere. Show me you want it.”

He did. God, it was humiliating, but he wanted to be on his knees, sucking Bill off while the other two waited their turn.

Dean sank to his knees and focused on the feel of denim under his hands as he unzipped Bill’s fly and took out his cock. He’d only done this twice since the night in the bar, never with an audience.

Bill’s hand fisted in his hair, pulling him in, and Dean took almost the whole shaft in one stroke.

“Oh, fuck yeah. You’ve been practicing.”

“How about this?” the blonde said from behind him, and Dean felt hands on his ass. He jumped, but Bill’s hands were on his shoulders, holding him down. The blonde pushed his ass cheeks apart and Dean knew he was totally exposed. He couldn’t turn around to see what they were doing, not with Bill’s hardon buried in his mouth.

“You been keeping this nice and loose for us, whore?”

And then two fingers were pushing into him, slick but otherwise unprepped. Dean let out a yelp and Bill groaned.

“He’s just like before, any little thing and he starts making noise.” He leaned over and pinched a nipple, and at the same time, someone tugged at Dean’s balls. He made another noise which was lost to the cockhead filling his throat.

“I felt that,” the blonde said. “You feel that?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Maybe we ought to put some weights on there?”

Dean wasn’t sure about that, but when he tried to pull off to protest, hands were on his shoulders, shoving him back down.

“Nobody told you to fucking stop, slut. It is _way_ too late to start pretending you don’t want this.”

A hand closed around his cock, stroking twice before tugging at his balls again.

“Yeah, you’re not fooling anyone. Keep sucking.”

A third finger joined the first two and Dean knew he was opening easily, much faster than he had last time.

“Not your first fuck tonight?”

“Oh yeah. Should have seen the guy he was with at the bar. Massive. Dude’s probably got a dick like a tree trunk.”

“No shit?” Bill pushed Dean down harder and Dean couldn’t keep up the suction. He relaxed his throat and tried not to choke when Bill pushed further in. “You a size queen, now? Going for quantity _and_ quality?”

Dean couldn’t protest if he tried. His cheeks were burning and he realized he was pushing back into the fingers stretching him open. God, it felt good, the three of them scissoring into his slick little hole. And it was better, knowing that all three of them were going to fuck him before the night was over.

Bill hauled him up.

“What’s the biggest cock you’ve ever taken?”

“I- I don’t know,” Dean answered honestly, and the three of them laughed.

“Not your giant friend there?”

“He’s my brother,” Dean snapped, and then Bill was thrusting back up into his mouth again.

“Big bro know you do this?” Mack asked. Dean answered, but it wasn’t audible. “Just go around begging to be fucked up the ass?”

The line of questioning was halted when the blonde’s phone chirped.

“Fred’s five miles out, he says he’s not coming unless we blindfold him.”

“Guess I’m going for the box of toys then,” Bill said, pushing Dean off and rising to his feet.

“Wait a minute,” Dean had time to say, and then Mack was pushing his face down into the carpet.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he said, his palm on the back of Dean’s neck. Dean tried to get up, but his arms were pulled out from beneath him and wrenched behind his back. Metal cuffs tightened around his wrists, and a moment later something fell over his eyes, blocking out the light.

“No, wait-”

A hand closed over his mouth, cutting off his protest. The slick fingers in his ass were joined by a hand around his cock. With just a few strokes he was close to coming. He ground back desperately into the fingers fucking him, trying to get them to hit that sweet spot inside.

“Oh no you don’t,” someone chuckled, and the hands were withdrawn from his cock and ass. He groaned at the loss, pushing his hips backwards.

“We spoiled you last time. This time, you don’t come until we say so. Got it?”

Dean nodded.

“Good. We’ve got a nice toy to help make sure.”

Dean felt a ring tighten around the base of his cock. He’d never worn one and it felt odd, but it was making him hard enough to ache.

Someone came down the basement steps.

“Shit, you guys weren’t kidding.”

“Told you. Dean, this is Fred. Fred, Dean.”

A hand settled between his legs, fondling his balls and avoiding any contact with his cock.

“You want to get fucked now, slut?”

The hand disappeared from his mouth and he moaned.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Dean whispered.

“Louder, whore.”

“Yes!”

“Beg for it,” someone else said, and behind the blindfold, Dean’s eyes clenched shut. The hand on his balls was pulling and there was a finger teasing his ass and if he couldn’t come he was going to go insane.

“Please,” he moaned, pushing back into the hands. They withdrew and someone chuckled at his pained whine.

“You can beg better than that. Beg to be fucked, slut. Tell us how much you want it.”

“Please, I want you fucking my ass, please!”

“Who do you want?”

“Anyone!”

“That’s my good fuck toy.”

And then someone was plunging into him in one slick slide, filling him completely. There was a hand on the back of his neck, pushing him into the carpet as the cock behind him pounded into him relentlessly. Every single stroke was hitting his prostate and if it weren’t for the ring he would have come instantly.

“Let him up,” someone said, and then there were hands on his shoulders, pulling him up so he could take another cock in his mouth.

“Swallow for me, and I’ll let you come,” a voice said from above him, and Dean began sucking him off in earnest, sliding his tongue along the frenulum and pulling his lips over the cockhead with a _pop._

The hands on his shoulders held him mostly immobile, but he leaned in anyway, taking it as deep as he could. His throat relaxed and he swallowed, tightening around the hard flesh filling his mouth.

The man behind him drew back, withdrawing almost completely, and then slammed back in, over and over, drawing choked moans out of Dean.

“Look at that ass. Doesn’t want to let me go.”

He pulled out again, friction dragging Dean almost over the edge, ring or no ring. Then he realized he was sucking hard and there were fingers tightening in his hair and the man was coming down his throat. He swallowed, spurt after spurt of salty liquid filling his mouth.

“Open up,” someone commanded and Dean did, letting the last warm rope of come land on his tongue. The cock withdrew, and he started to close his mouth but someone slapped him and he froze.

“You hold that, right there, until he finishes with your ass,” someone told him, and Dean’s face burned. He couldn’t see them, didn’t know what they were doing, but he could hear breathing and he knew they were close. He didn’t even know how many people were in the room, standing there watching him getting fucked.

The thought of it was making his cock bob up against his belly, and every single stroke was hitting his prostate and _fuck_ he wanted to come.

“Tongue out, slut” someone ordered and Dean obeyed, not at all surprised when he felt the head of another cock press into his mouth. He tried to take it in and was rewarded with a fist in his hair.

“You just sit there and look pretty,” the voice told him, and the cock was rubbing against his tongue, barely even in his mouth, but the man was groaning and Dean realized he was jerking off.

The realization occurred just as the man came, sending ropes of come across Dean’s face. Some of it landed on the blindfold, but most of it landed on his lips and tongue.

Dean heard a click and realized someone was taking photos.

Fingers were in his mouth, smearing the salty come across his tongue, making sure he could taste it.

“ _Fuck,_ ” the man behind him cried out, and then he was _burying_ himself in Dean, pressing hard, and Dean felt hot come filling his ass. “Christ, that’s a good lay.”

“Best part is how much he loves it,” someone said, and at the same time someone was reaching under him, pinching a nipple and making him tighten on the man still in his ass.

“Ah! Jesus, wish I had known that before,” the man behind him said. He pulled out and Dean realized there was come and lube trickling down his balls.

“Want to come now, slut?”

“Yes, please, let me come!”

Dean was pulled sideways and he lost his balance. Someone else was on the floor and after a moment, Dean was pulled into a position straddling them. The person was lying down and Dean was posed over their hips. He could feel their cock pressing up against him.

The cock ring was pulled off and he very nearly came untouched.

“Fuck yourself on my cock,” the man said, “and I’ll jerk you off.”

Dean didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He slammed himself down onto the man, filling his hole to the maximum before bottoming out. True to his word, the man’s slicked fingers wrapped around Dean’s cock. They made a tunnel for him to fuck up into, letting him alternate between burying his cock in that fist, and filling his ass with the cock below him.

Someone was in front of him, pushing another dick into his mouth, and Dean opened eagerly, grinding his hips downward and sucking the cock in deep with the same motion. His hands were still cuffed behind him, so he compensated by deep throating as much as he could. He pressed upwards with his tongue, trapping the cockhead against the top of his throat, and he moaned into it, knowing they could feel the vibration.

The hand on his cock shifted, thumb moving up to slide over the head of Dean’s cock, and at the same time, the man in front of him reached down and pinched at one of his nipples and he was coming like a fucking freight train.

More clicks as someone photographed him, naked and handcuffed, blindfolded, coming as he fucked himself on an anonymous cock.

The basement door opened again.

“Late to the party, I guess.”

“Not at all,” someone laughed, and there was the sound of a beer cracking open, and the man fucking Dean’s mouth came down his throat.

“Fuck, yeah, take all that. Can’t get enough of that, can you?”

Fingers were pushing their way into his mouth, and Dean realized they belonged to the man below him.

“Clean up your mess, slut,” he instructed, and Dean sucked and licked his own come off the man’s fingers until the bitter taste was gone.

His cock was getting hard again and that’s when Dean started to realize exactly how far gone he was. The man underneath him came and then someone was pushing him backwards. He landed awkwardly on his cuffed hands, but then someone was lifting his hips up, fingers digging into his thighs as they buried themselves inside him. Someone else was straddling his chest.

“Suck my balls, bitch.”

And Dean did it, eagerly, sucking and lapping at the man’s sack, moaning into it, lost in the feeling of the man holding him up and pounding into his ass.

He realized he couldn’t remember how many men had come in him since he got here. Then fingers were closing around his cock and stroking and he came again. The camera clicked and Dean realized he didn’t care.  

 

After a while, Dean was too worn out for any kind of active participation so they bent him over one of the tables, blindfolded and gagged, and took him one after another as guys came and went. They kept a ring around his cock to make sure he didn’t come too often. A couple times they took the gag off to fuck his mouth or let him beg, but mostly they just used his ass.

 

It was late when Bill finally unlocked him. Dean reached up and pulled off the blindfold, blinking in the light.

“You did good, kid.”

Dean nodded. He wasn’t sure he could talk. He was going to have a sore throat and a hell of a limp to explain to Sam in the morning.

Bill handed him a towel and he wiped his face, but he still felt like every inch of him was coated in come and lube and spit.

It would wash off.

The memories, though, those were permanent. And he was going to be jerking off to this memory for a very, very long time.

 


End file.
